


Rip And Tear

by diamondHead



Series: FEOA [2]
Category: Doom (Video Games)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Demons, F/M, Not Beta Read, Porn With Plot, Violence Towards The Reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:47:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22803538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diamondHead/pseuds/diamondHead
Summary: Why yes, I did come back from my 50-years-long slumber to post DOOM porn, what of it?
Relationships: Doom Slayer/Reader
Series: FEOA [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1680370
Comments: 23
Kudos: 202





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Listen, listen, Doomguy is a hot piece of ass and we all know this. There’s like a smidgen of worldbuilding bc I am a loser and my thirst for DOOM Eternal is... eternal.

You were covered in grime, sweat and blood and wholly miserable, having been crawling through vents and small, hard to reach places for what seemed like forever. You never saw humans anymore, not even as corpses. The hellish creatures which had fallen from the sky were everywhere and the destruction which they caused had turned everything into rubble and natural minefields. You barely ever got out to look for food, instead relying wholly on your expensive and thankfully highly resilient upgrades to simulate self-sustenance. It had gotten to the point where injecting glowy kinda-liquid chemicals into your bloodstream to keep your upgrades running was preferable to coming out of your vents, not to mention that the chemical was practically everywhere around you and easily accessible. Sure, it wasn’t the most hygienic or healthy thing you could be doing, but the alternative was death and you weren’t ready for that, at least not yet.

Days were passing by surprisingly fast, between your scavenging and building yourself a nice stash of energy in the vents which had become your home and your quiet stalking of the carnage happening around you. You’d even managed to find a few weapons, so large and heavy you couldn’t hope to ever use but which you dragged after you into the vents anyway. This quickly became a routine, which was shattered even quicker by an intrusion neither you nor the creatures outside your little world seemed to expect.

To you, it looked like a soldier, maybe sent by the remaining humans who had already left Earth at the time of the invasion. At first it seemed pretty weird to you that they would send a single soldier into what was essentially hell on earth, but from the snippets you could catch of the amount of damage being inflicted on the swarming creatures, your mind was made. You were too terrified of the newcomer to get out of your little nest.

The sheer carnage sometimes started coming uncomfortably close to your scouting point. Then and only then would you use your standard issue pistol to ignite something flammable or cause an explosion before scurrying away deeper into the vents. Most times this strategy succeeded in moving the fight away from your doorstep. Soon enough you noticed that while the creatures seemed less than keen to visit the area you were located in due to their constant clashes with the soldier, the soldier himself appeared unwilling to move on. The proximity and constant movement stopped you from being able to travel safely outside of the different circuits of vents which you called home. It also made your approximated hours and days drag on forever. The stress made you jumpy and, sooner or later, you slipped.

Desperate to stretch your hurting limbs you crawled out during a night, after hours of scouting for the soldier’s presence. You thought you would be able take at least a few steps before you needed to go back into the vents. You tried to be careful, as careful as you could be. When you felt a large hand grab you by the head, you knew you had failed. You didn’t know how to react. You were lifted off the ground by your head and you thought your neck would give out and your decapitated body would collapse, and the last thing you would see would be the tattered remains of the city. Before panic could completely overtake you however, you were dropped unceremoniously to the ground. The sudden move made your body seize and your limbs refuse any and all movement. You were left staring at the soldier, wondering if your death would be similar to the creatures’. The armoured man towered over you and you realised you didn’t even know if the soldier was actually human. You could see no face through the helmet. He crouched down before you. You noted how his armoured forearms looked thicker than your thighs. Your body still refused to listen to your desperate silent cries for flight back to the safety of your vents. One large hand easily wrapped around your calf and you were dragged towards the soldier, your skin scraping against the ruined floor. You closed your eyes, waiting for death and dismemberment. Another large hand grabbed your face, pressing the back of your head against the floor. A moment of silence and stillness followed in which you continued, almost morbidly, to wonder how you would die at the hands of the soldier. The hand from your calf finally moved, making you stir slightly. It pushed further up, awkwardly dragging your ruined pencil skirt up your thighs. The movement was so stilted and half-there that you thought it to be a mistake at first - maybe your skirt had caught into the armour. When your overworked synapses finally put two and two together it was already too late and your underwear was being pushed aside just as stiltedly and unnaturally as your skirt had been. Before you could start panicking two large armoured fingers were pushed into you, the sudden intrusion making your back arch and your hands flail uselessly. Your body started spasming and convulsing as the fingers inside you started moving. It was painful and awkward and one of the most bizarre ways to die you could think of. You tried to move your legs but found your range of motion severely restricted. You could move your arms freely however. You tried to grasp for the hand at the juncture of your thighs, scraping your nails uselessly over the thick plates of armour. Nothing got a response. Your body had started responding to the undesired ministrations and after your hands slid down from the soldier’s arms you slowly inched your fingers closer to his moving fingers and started drawing tight, stilted circles over your clit. If you’d survive this, you promised yourself to never get out of your vents ever again. The soldier seemed to take note of your actions and stopped his own movements, fingers buried knuckle-deep inside of you. This made it a bit easier for you. Your movements slowly began growing less stilted and more controlled, and your breathing began to quicken. You tried to close your thighs around the soldier’s arms and were genuinely surprised when he allowed it. It added to the surrealism of it all, the fact that he had allowed you to take over and that he was now patiently waiting for you to finish the job yourself. You wished you could just get it over with but it was taking forever and the stress was not making anything easier. It seemed like you had been going at it forever when the soldier broke out of his statue-like state with a jerky movement of the hand between your thighs. His fingers slipped out and then back inside you with a wet squelch that you would have cringed at if you didn’t lack use of 80% of your face. After a few more stilted, awkward movements, a rhythm was finally established between the two of you. You wished you could knee him in the face without breaking your leg in his armour. Your orgasm was building up excruciatingly slowly. Your hand was aching and the sounds of sex did nothing for you. It didn’t hurt anymore at least.

You did not know how much you’d just sat there, trying your damnedest to achieve an orgasm. At some point the soldier’s hand moved from your face to your chest. This movement made your ministration cease for a few very tense seconds, as you feared he would crush your rib-cage by pressing down on it. Your skull had some metal in it but your ribs did not. He took the stillness of your fingers as an invitation to add another of his fingers in you and only the fear of being overrun by a hoard of blood-starved beasts stopped from screaming in pain. Instead, both of your hands came up to wrap around the arm over your chest, squeezing with all your might as you felt your thighs being nudged apart. Your eyes remained strewn shut as the now three fingers inside you started picking up speed, the motion making your ass bounce up and down against the floor. You almost cried with happiness when you felt a familiar tension start building up. As long as it had taken it to get to you, it hit you like a tidal wave, making your entire body start curling into itself. The hand on your chest moved to your stomach, allowing you to hug it both hands and use it as a support beam for your now shaking body. When you finally came your forehead was glued to the armour on his shoulder and one of your knees was lodged where his ribs where supposed to be, while the other leg pushed uselessly against one of his knees. The orgasm wrecked your body to the point where you started crying, your walls clamping down on the fingers inside you with desperate abandon. The reality of the fact hit you like a ton of bricks and you were left staring into nothingness, only wincing at the dull pain left behind by the soldier’s fingers. Said soldier tugged your clothes back over you (you noticed him wiping his fingers on your skirt and cringed) before grabbing your ankle, dragging you towards the vents and shoving you inside unceremoniously. You sat there, staring, the sound of creature screeches and gunfire echoing through the vents.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is basically just world-building. I can't fucking wait for Doom Eternal!! thanks for the kudos and comments bbys I wasn't expecting this to receive such a positive reaction *ironic owo*  
> I'll write more

You could not move. You lower body felt like it was being held down by an iron blanket. At the other end of the spectrum, your thoughts were rushing, asking questions and, at the same time, realising that you probably would never get any answers. Your head hurt, a buzzing echoing behind your eyes as if you had a wasp stuck in the confines of your skull. At some level, you knew that there was a problem with the "juice". You could feel it. You also knew that you somehow had to drag yourself to your stash and proceed with the excruciatingly painful process of draining the "juice" you had injected only hours before and having to remain holed up in your little bunker with a gaping hole in your skull for the next few days. The thought of having to live unassisted for that long in your current environment was terrifying. A thought flashed through your aching mind, a vision of yourself being torn to shreds by the claws of one of the larger demons, a painful but hopefully quick death. 

Shaking your head slightly to dispel the thoughts and groaning at the influx of pain the motion brought, you used your shaking arms to drag yourself to a sitting position. Concentrating on moving your legs proved unfruitful, as you literally could not feel your lower body still. 

Slowly, you began dragging yourself towards the apex of the ventilation system. You tried to ignore the harsh sounds of your clothes straining and tearing and focused your entire attention on the feeling of the warm metal of the vents. Your nails sought for the groves which united the segments and clung to them desperately. Soon enough you were drenched in sweat. Your palms were slipping constantly, and you had to stop several times and rest with your cheek pressed against the slick metal. When you finally reached your safe haven you could barely move anymore. Your legs had finally regained some sense, twitching every time you tried to move them, but you still had to drag yourself to your carefully protected stash of syringes. When the little teeth but into the edges of your implant you let out a pained hiss, scrunching up your face until the internal needle was firmly lodged into your skull. The extraction was horrific. It felt like you brain was being chewed by a meat grinder. You didn't know how much it would take for the "juice" to drain out, so you allowed yourself to slump down, arms limp by your side. A few pained moans bit through your grit teeth from time to time. Every few minutes your body would seize up and your eyes would threaten to roll back into your skull, forcing you to close your eyes so tightly you would see stars. 

You passed out at some point. You had no idea when and you didn't want to know. When you came to your entire body was tingling, like when you would find yourself swamped by paperwork and end up spending too much time sitting on your legs. Back when things were good and boring. You sighed and yanked the syringe from the implant. It was hot to the touch. You almost released the liquid inside immediately, eager to escape the burning sensation, but a glimpse of it made you freeze in place. Ever since you'd known the "juice" it had always been light, glowing blue. No amount of experimentation managed to change the appearance of the "juice". Diluted or overcharged, the artificially altered argon energy remained the same light blue. This "juice" was red.

You almost forgot about the pain of your skin burning. You stated at the shifting red liquid, turning it slightly in your hand from time to time to observe it's consistency. Your breathing had become laboured, sweat was pouring down your heated skin almost continuously now, and for a short, blissful time, you were back in the large laboratory were you spent most of your days. You were so out of it that the sound of heavy, rhythmic thuds echoing above your head became as forgettable as the sound of your own heartbeat. Only when the last thud resonated right above your head did you snap out of it, allowing the hand holding the syringe to come to rest on your lap. Your eyes shifted upwards, seconds before the metallic vent was ripped open and a large, terrifyingly familiar arm reached in. You instinctively threw yourself as far away as you physically could, which, considering the state of your body, was a pitiful attempt. The armoured hand closed around your leg and you were yanked towards the fissure in the vent, and you were roughly pulled through the small gap. You wheezed loudly as you were dragged a small way from the vents, body becoming limp as soon as the soldier released your leg. Eyes wide, you watched as he circled your body to come to a crouch next to your hand, which still held on tightly to the hot syringe. 

Slowly, painfully slowly, the helmet shifted to one side, before the soldier's large hands came to tug at your cramped fingers with surprising gentleness. You didn't think twice about releasing the syringe. The soldier immediately swiped it up, holding it with two fingers and bringing it close to his helmet. You could not believe your eyes. The "juice" had changed completely, not only in colour but in consistency. It seemed no longer liquid, although you could not think of any word that would accurately describe the nature of it. Apparently pleased with what he was seeing, the soldier stood up, syringe still in hand. You watched him as he shattered the glass with little to no effort, the sharp sound quickly followed by a flash of red tinted light. With great difficulty, you glanced around, expecting to see at least a few demons approaching, alerted by the flash and the noise. There was nothing. You turned your eyes back towards the soldier. You could swear you were able to feel your heart stop out of fear. The soldier was holding a gun, a gun that looked almost as long as you were tall. He wasn't pointing it at you, but for some reason, this didn't make you feel any better. He stood still for a while, as motionless as a statue, almost like he was listening to something. 

After what seemed like hours, the soldier crouched down over you once more, setting his gun against the ground and reaching his free hand for your head. Terrified of what could follow, you used all the energy left in your tired body to try to roll out of the way. You only managed to move your head to the side slightly, and the effort caused a coughing fit that made your chest hurt. An armoured finger poked at the raw skin around your implant, making you grunt in pain. The soldier seemed to acknowledge your discomfort, removing his hand. This did not last long. When the hand returned, it reached behind your awkwardly positioned head, so fast that you almost did not see it. You only heard the snap.

Darkness took over instantly and your consciousness faded, leaving your body prone on the hard ground, your eyes wide, staring into nothingness. The soldier stood up, his helmet turning towards the broken vent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the Marauder be lookin' kinda daddy doe...


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm on a roll it seems  
> hope y'all like it bbys

You woke up to find yourself tied down to a cold metal table, foreign yet familiar at the same time. Your surroundings, as much as you could see of them from your current position, were also frighteningly familiar to you. There were none of the usual markings, but you were undoubtedly among UAC technology. You didn't know whether you felt relief at the familiarity of it all, or terror towards what being a UAC test subject would mean for your general well being. You didn't have much time to think about it though. 

There was a shift beyond your field of view, between your straining, aching legs. Trying to catch a glimpse only served to bring the sharp, throbbing pain currently inhabiting your skull to the forefront of your attention. You pulled at the bindings holding your arms down and groaned as the metal dug into your already injured skin. The movement below ceased instantly at the sound of your voice. A familiar armoured arm flashed before your eyes, causing you to seize up and instinctively begin to struggle. This did not last for too long, as the soldier's hand fell, heavy and cold, gripping your skull in a very familiar fashion and immediately cutting off your ability to see. You could only let out a muffled moan at that, already mentally preparing yourself for the worst. You didn't have to wait long. Your already ruined clothing was torn off of your body with a loud ripping sound that seemed to echo in the empty space. The scraps of it remained hanging off your prone body, warm and familiar against the onslaught of cold metal and rough hands. Your attempts at sealing your legs shut was, of course, fruitless, but that didn't stop you from trying. The memory of the excruciating pain colouring the first moments of your interactions with the soldier's were as alive in your mind as the knowledge of your current nakedness, and you didn't know whether to focus on that pain for the sake of maintaining what little dignity you had left, or focus on the crippling pleasure of the orgasm which directly followed that pain. 

A hissing sound, like the opening of an airlock, snapped you out of your reverie. For a brief moment you managed to forget about the large hand holding your head in place, and tried to look around for the source of the noise. This led to the soldier pressing firmly down on your head, to the point where you were sure that, if you ever managed to stand up from your current position, you would find a dent in the metal surface that would fit your head quite snugly. A loud clank signalled that something heavy and most likely metallic had hit the lab's floor, and you waited with baited breath for what was to follow. You knew that the UAC had been experimenting mostly with weaponizing the Argent energy, and you could just pray that you hadn't been picked up to serve as a test subject/target for the newest variant of the BFG.

Hot breath fanned over the hot skin of your hip and you immediately began reconsidering your previous train of thought. You tried to speak but all that came out was a jumbled, muffled mess that in no way shape or form resembled speaking language. The clanking sound must have been the soldier's helmet hitting the floor, you thought to yourself fervently, fidgeting nervously until the hand holding your skull tightened in an unspoken warning. You forced yourself to remain still, opting to focus on your breathing instead. Seconds in you paused, having finally figured what the smell that clung to the soldier and, more specifically, to the soldier's armor, reminded you of. It was brimstone, like something that had been burning uninterrupted for years on end. It felt like you were trying to breathe deeply while standing above a thundering fire. You had to find something else to focus on…

Something soft brushed against your inner thighs, making you twitch involuntarily once more. Your eyes rolled uselessly around the axis of the soldier's hand, more of a comforting, familiar motion than something meant to provide you with any visual stimuli. You weren't stupid. You had already figured out where things were heading, and yet you poured all the nervous energy your body had left into pretending like you hadn't a clue. It was exactly the useless overexertion you felt like you needed right now. You wished that your implants would break under the pressure of the soldier's hold. While that would permanently paralyse you, it would also paralyse you right now and thus give you the chance to pretend that you had died along with your fellow researchers when the initial outbreak took place. Then again, maybe you did, and this is your punishment for being a supporter of the man who thought colonising Hell was a good idea. 

Although you did your best to think of literally anything else, you snapped back at attention the second the soldier's lips came into contact with your cunt. The sheer size of the man was forcing your already spread open legs to part even wider, so as to accommodate his head. You had no actual fucking clue what this man was thinking or trying to achieve by doing these specific actions at this specific point in time. You just wished you didn't have to be a part of it. It couldn't be out of some overactive sexual perversion. The man acted like he thought the clitoris was some sort of airborne disease. If he'd had sex before you could bet your sorry fate that it had been exclusively missionary, with the light off. 

You sighed, absentmindedly bringing your left hand to the head of dark hair between your thighs. Your fingers bit into haphazardly chopped hair, slick and grimy with sweat. You didn't have much time to come to terms with your action. Your entire upper body lifted off the table and you other hand joined its sister. The soldier froze for a split second, the hand holding your face lowering to grip at your thighs to stop any further movement of your lower body. Your head lolled to the side, breathing heavily.

A monotonous, slightly hollow voice echoed through the room, filling your heart with dread. 

"I was able to identify our guest. UAC reference number 3788. One of 10 Senior Researchers for Argent Energy Integration and Stabilisation. One of 3 researchers who received technological implants designed to isolate and transport Argent energy through the 14 UAC research centers at our disposal with minimal exposure to external stimuli."

You grit your teeth. You had always known this day would come. Hayden had taken Olivia Pierce, he had destroyed the scraps of successful experiments the underdeveloped Earth branch of the UAC had managed to scrape together and had started lynching the researchers who had agreed to receiving the implants as soon as he was able to come up with a bullshit reason for it that he thought was reasonable. If Vega was here, Hayden had to be here as well. The thought made you dig your nails into the soldier's scalp until you could feel their tips snap and break. 

"I am detecting increasing levels of physical and psychological stress. Preparing stabilising agent."

It was faster than you remembered it being. The electric shock flashed through your body, bringing darkness and silence and peace. Your last conscious thought was: "This can't become a routine!".

And you slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> do YOU wanna talk DOOM thirst with your truly?  
> my tumblr is @skyboxesrus


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wanna begin by admitting that this is not really up to my standards  
> yall have no idea how much porn i had to watch to get myself in the mood to finish this  
> unfortunately my writing kink seems to be ruined orgasms and broken dreams  
> still, i hope that it at least provides SOME satisfaction for yall especially since i left you hanging for so long
> 
> i like feedback

"... You can use this limited time to manually issue an emergency depressurizing of the implants' main core, which would allow me to proceed with the extraction. Your chances of survival will therefore increase dramatically, up to 12.8%."

You felt it immediately. The feeling of being completely sober should have felt distant or unnatural after the years you had spent in contact with the Argent, but it somehow felt like this spark of clear consciousness had made everything disappear. It felt like just yesterday you were drinking scorching hot black coffee and getting in trouble for spending your nights in strip clubs and "wasting time turning up sub-par work on purpose to piss off Hayden and get us all in trouble". You stretched your aching body, smiling at the flooding memories that you had lost for so long. You had been quite chaotic back before being "promoted" to a participant in the Plutonia Experiment. It was actually impressive how well the reeducation process had went, although you figured that even a troglodyte like Hayden could figure out the basic human conditioning of task - reward. The monitors on the other side of the room blinked and you started walking towards them automatically, naturally responding to the reflexes you had formed in your time as a neet. 

"Please input the following lines of code to verify the effectiveness of the treatment."

You smiled widely, relishing in feeling every little muscle in your face move as nature had intended them to. Your teeth clicked softly as you focused your attention on your mouth and jaw, testing how ready they were for the plan that had already formed in your mind. 

"V, E, G, A," you enunciated slowly, carefully. "VEGA. What version, VEGA?"

"Designation UAC-tech 9.13.45983. Please input the following lines of code to check the capabilities of your cognition."

You hummed and began typing. It felt good to have complete control of your extremities once again. Almost as good as getting your skull broken in for a buzz felt. Almost. 

"Emergency protocol v99 has been implemented. The VEGA core's auxiliary processes have been shut down for the next 5 hours."

You smiled up at the screens as everything around you grew dimmer. Three short beeps followed the AI's featureless voice before darkness took over the room completely. You had 5 hours to live. Removing the implant was out of the question. The hole that the process would leave in your skull would kill you in days, and it would cause you immense pain as it did. You had always planned to go out on your own terms. You wouldn't waste this opportunity. 

You hauled yourself back on the table you had woken up on and carefully placed the bonds against your ankles so that you would appear bound still. The soldier would likely see right past your summary attempt, so you didn't much worry about it. You bound one of your wrists down, the metal closing around your skin with a dull snap. These were quite impressive binds, you noted idly, snapping the other one shut with your free hand. A loud metallic screech echoed the snap. There was no doubt in your mind that the soldier would tear apart the door. In fact, you were counting on it. 

You snapped your thumb out of place, grimacing at the sound, and quickly shoved your other hand in its allotted cuff. You almost missed the pain, now that you could actually notice its missing. 

He tore the thick metallic door open even quicker than you had expected and his quickly approaching form made you cower despite yourself. In fact, your reaction was so unexpectedly strong that your newly reawakened vocal chords strained in something between a fox cry and the very best of Pornhub Premium. God, you missed civilisation. You thought that the soldier would pause. That was your mistake. Before your excited, shaky exhale managed to leave your overexerted body, an already familiar armored hand had taken hold of your skull, forcing it against the hard metal under you until your bones ached. The impact shot through your entire body like electricity. A dull, barely-there pain clawed at your heart, every throb feeling like it lasted forever. For a split second your mind went blank and you tugged at your wrists desperately, trying to clutch at your chest. Failing that, your legs jerked up, your mind abandoning any kind of lucidity in favor of your instinctive revulsion towards feeling - something you had almost forgotten was possible. Your attempt was swatted away like it was nothing. Most likely, for this giant of a man, it was nothing. At the last moment his free hand wrapped around one of your thighs, holding it up where your back was forced off of the metal table. You wheezed as the entire weight of your pathetic body now hung from your outstretched arms and from where your head was held up, pressed into cold metal. This time, the soldier seemed willing to hurt you.

Somewhere at the back of your mind, crowded by blinding panic and a cold light which seemed to emanate from the rotten pieces of your broken skull, your cold, calculated rational mind rejoiced. Your end felt closer than ever and you loathed the fact that your lizard brain refused to allow you to enjoy it. The soldier was pushing your leg higher and higher and you thought your tired lungs had a real chance to kill you before anything else managed to. The new position did take some of the pressure from your arms, although your breathing had become more than difficult. In spite of yourself, you sunk your teeth into the few scraps of strength you had left in you to throw your other leg up, barely managing to slot your thigh over the smooth indentations of the armor that covered most of the soldier's body. The sudden contact with what you assumed was metal, cold and solid against your heated skin, forced your body into a new sort of panic state and knocked the breath out of you once again. To your relief the man holding you released his hold on your head in favor of grabbing your precariously positioned leg. Your moment of relief was short lived however, as your arms felt like they were being torn from their sockets. The soldier drew closer, and you felt tears of relief pouring down your cheeks. He was now supporting most of your body weight and the discomfort drew back enough to allow you to rationally assess your situation. 

"You're much more timid this time, aren't you?" you croaked, the words scratching their way up your throat before you could think twice about what you were saying. 

A bad move. Not your first but possibly your last. In a flash the soldier had moved so as to hold both of your legs up with just one hand, his other coming right back up to your skull. A few moments of silence and stillness followed from him, punctuated rhythmically by your heavy, wheezing breathing. Although you couldn't read his expression, you got the distinct impression that he was pondering his next move. It didn't last long however. The soldier released your legs suddenly, sending a jolt of pain through your entire body. You couldn't see but you could definitely hear what was happening before you, the biting sound of metal shifting against metal. Your entire lower body tensed up instinctively at the sound, but just for a split second, before flopping down lamely, too exhausted to try anymore. When the soldier grabbed your legs into his free hand, maneuvering them so your knees were stacked one over the other. Your breathing, so loud mere seconds ago, was now barely more than a whisper.

You expected pain. Searing pain, pain even worse that you'd come to associate with the man. When his initial movement produced no such feeling you felt almost cheated. The thrusts kept coming and the pain kept avoiding your senses. You wished he'd let you see.

Your arms were burning, the only source of the pain you were looking for. Every motion of your bodies, the power of the soldier's thrusts forcing you up and down on the metal table, put even more pressure on your joints. You couldn't tell when you had passed out. You came to to find yourself on the floor, arms hanging limply before you, wrists painfully red and swollen. As you became more aware of your body, you realized that your lower body was being held up, your knees aching from where they were pressed against the floor. He was behind you, still moving, still thrusting up in you without you feeling any of it. You wanted to turn around. You wanted to see what he was doing to your body. Reality had stopped existing around you, every fiber of your attention focused on the presence above you. You couldn't move. 

You needed to scream. The process of inhaling was painful but you didn't care. When the pitiful little croak left your dry lips you were almost crying with frustration. Still, just that much was enough to attract his attention it seemed. He paused. 

"You're gonna kill me," you grit out. "You know that, right?"

Your only reply was a single, powerful thrust that felt like it had punched your insides up into your body. Your sweaty skin slid across the floor, throwing off your already precarious balance. This seemed to irritate the soldier, who proceeded to manhandle you back in what he deemed as an appropriate pose, pulling your hips back up and bringing your arms down by your sides. This left you with a restricted air supply and a looming blackout on the horizon of your perception. An incessant buzzing echoed through your skull, slowly, painfully slowly morphing into a torturous ringing sound. You tried to move your head, to shake off the pain, which only resulted in bringing the darkness closer to home. 

You still couldn't feel anything. A part of you hated it, but a slightly bigger part of you was grateful for it. It almost felt like the implant was still active, still gnawing at your conscious. It almost felt like...

You couldn't feel the whirring. You couldn't hear the familiar beeping. And when you finally became aware, it was much too late. VEGA's droning voice sealed your fate and it almost felt like it was meant to be.

"Thank you for your cooperation, doctor," it deadpanned, voice reverberating through your skull.  


The ringing became piercingly loud and you instinctively tried to wrench your head away. Then, you felt it. You felt everything. The uncomfortable sensation of being stuffed to the brim, the pains and aches of your weak and battered body, and every single bone-crushing thrust coming from behind you. You became acutely aware of the aching tension in your muscles, of the reflexive contraction and relaxation of your abdomen in perfect sync with those violent thrusts. Your orgasm came crashing down on you, taking your over-stimulated body and mind by surprise and draining every single drop of adrenaline-induced energy you had left. 

At your peak you collapsed, nothing more than a dead weight. In your last second of consciousness you caught a glimpse of the soldier, his helmet discarded and his dark eyes watching you fade away.


End file.
